Define Normal
by Mrs.JohnReese
Summary: What happens when Leila is entrusted as a young girl to our dynamic duo? Just a little drabble...read to find out more :D
1. Chapter 1

You didn't think it was a big deal to be different when you were growing up. You didn't think it was unnatural that you could take down a boy twice your size when you were in middle school. It wasn't strange to you that you could have successfully hacked the school's computer system and changed people's grades or the lunch menu at the age of fourteen. And you didn't find anything odd about living out your daily life with two voices in your ear. In fact, when you happened to go a day without those voices interjecting their thoughts…trying to reassure themselves that you were safe…you felt lost; alone. Like the time in high school when you forgot your phone at home; and Harold showed up, frantic with worry.

Everyone else thought that was odd. But you? You didn't blink an eye.

Your "oddness" didn't exactly make it easy to make friends at first. The secrecy of what your guardians did for a living prevented play dates…having someone stay the night was entirely out of the question. And while that may have caused unrelenting bitterness to well up for any of your peers; for you, it was almost…comforting. Knowing that you possessed a well-kept secret for the two men who loved you like a daughter…knowing that you had someplace to call home; where no one else could barge in and pass judgment or get just close enough to hurt you…to you, _that_ was happiness.

Despite what others may say about it; you couldn't have been happier when you learned in the fifth grade that your grandparents had given you over into John and Harold's care when you were just two years old. While most of your classmates would have hated being thrown into a world of chaos and uncertainty; it was in your guardians' line of work that you found a sense of continuity. With every passing day as you grew; a new number was up…someone else needed saving. And though you are now well beyond the age of believing in superheroes; to you, that's just what your guardians are. Heroes.

They save people who everyone else wouldn't even give a passing glance. They call them the "irrelevants"…but to John and Harold; these people they save are anything _but_ irrelevant. They are a second chance. They are redemption. And seeing the satisfaction in their eyes every time they save another number…for you; that is enough. You don't need popularity. You don't need boys. You have two men in your lives who you know would do anything to make you happy…to save you.

They already saved you once; when you were just a baby. You were a number too…someone everybody else found irrelevant. But through their tireless work and dedication to their cause; you got to live to see another day. Your own father would have stood by and let his wife have you smuggled away to cover up the indiscretion presented by your birth. But John and Harold wouldn't allow it…just like they wouldn't allow so many other people to fall prey to terrible things.

And now, eighteen years later; instead of attending your senior prom, you're getting out of Harold's town car and walking up a little hill towards John's tall frame, Harold close behind you. John turns to you; smiling a bit before asking:

"You ready?"

You nod; biting back a laugh as you hear Harold speak up from behind you.

"Mr. Reese, I'm not entirely sure this is such a good idea."

John shares another smile at his partner's expense with you before turning to Harold and responding.

"Relax, Finch. Both of you need to know how to do this. I'm not going another day worrying about how the two of you will defend yourselves if something happens that prevents me from being there in time."

You look behind you then, this time not holding back your laughter as you see Finch standing there, mouth agape as John reaches into a bag by his feet and pulls out two hand guns. He holds one out to you; and one to Harold. You take yours first, feeling the weight of the cold metal in your hand before you register John's hand closing around your free wrist and pulling you to stand in front of him.

As you aim the gun in front of you, training it, with John's gentle assistance, on the bulls-eye painted on the tree a few hundred yards away; you think again about how lucky you are to have such dedicated guardians. How absolutely thrilled you are to be here; with the two men you love more than anything else in the world.

Feeling John's steady hand close over your own on the trigger; you fire your first shot. And you know, without a doubt; that you are perhaps the safest person in the world.

And there is _nothing_ abnormal about that.


	2. Chapter 2

_(sixteen years earlier)…._

A loud thud echoes down the hall of the library from where you sit, aimlessly playing with John's boxes of ammo (they make for rather nice building blocks); causing both John and Harold to come skidding into the room, faces contorted in panic, until they realize that you remain seated, unscathed; despite the fact that the boxes now rest in disarray on the floor, bullets popping out of some, and rolling underneath the bookshelves. After a moment's pause, John's face is the first to break into a smile, and he scoops you up; twirling you around in his arms and laughing while Harold chatters on worriedly about how he really _*should*_ consider moving his arsenal to another location. John is not listening, however…his deep, blue-grey, soulful eyes are riveted on yours as he carries you back out to the main room where the big machine with all the buttons resides.

You know, as you have perhaps always known, that of the two men in your life; John is the most likely to give you what you want. It always comes as a shock to those around you. To Fusco…to Carter…they never would have expected that the stone-faced, ex-CIA operative with a heart of stone would turn to complete mush for you…a mere baby. You have only to pout, and let out a little cry, and he will be putty in your hands. And for some reason, that shocks everyone.

It isn't that Harold doesn't do anything for you. But he resorts to being the disciplinarian…to being the "adult"…because he knows how John is around you. And although he too can become guilty of giving in to your wide eyes from time to time; he always knows what is best for you. He always knows when enough is enough. And he is always able to rein John in when he gets a little carried away.

Soon John is setting you down on top of Harold's desk, and you eagerly scoot yourself over to where Harold sits in front of his big machine; waving your arms enthusiastically as the smaller man takes his seat and reaches out a hand to grab yours.

"Just a few more minutes, Leila. Then we can go to the park, like we promised" He says, his eyes twinkling up at you while you let your gaze roam around the desk; searching for a new plaything. Your eyes lock on the funny looking round thing connected to the big machine with some wire then; and you reach out your hand in a silent command, turning your face to John and wrinkling your nose in consternation as you point your fingers at the desired object.

John quirks his head at you, a smirk tugging at his lips as he says "What is it, Leila. What do you need?"

Furrowing your brow, you pause for a moment, not really sure what exactly the thing you desire is called. You know it has a name…you've heard Harold talk about it plenty of times. But the name escapes you; leaving you to hang your head a bit as you reach your arms out to John and utter a single word:

"Up."

Laughing a little as he shakes his head, John steps over to you and picks you up once again; taking a seat in a chair next to Harold and snuggling you close as he begins bouncing you lightly in his lap. You think you can see a twinge of sadness cross his features for a moment, before his expression returns to normal…and you fight back a small whimper; knowing the cause of his sadness is your silence.

Both John and Harold know you can talk. You've done it before. It's just not something you particularly _enjoy_. Unlike your grandparents, however…unlike the numerous babysitters you've encountered…John and Harold _understand _your silence. They know that you don't talk because sometimes you have nightmares about the bad man with the funny line on his face that took you away from your home. From your mommy. They know that every time you cried out in this man's presence, he beat you. And they understand that your fear of speaking _now _stems from the fact that you remember every last detail of what he did to you; despite how young you were at the time.

John and Harold understand that you need time to trust that they won't hurt you like that bad man did. They know that, just like any other former captive, you need time to heal. And they never get impatient with you when it takes you longer than it should to learn new words…to become as articulate as a two and a half year old should be. But you still know how much it hurts them that you're so broken. And you would give anything to fix yourself…to let them know that they have given you more than anyone else ever had.

No matter what you _want_, however, there's something inside you that just…can't…move on yet. Between memories of your kidnapping, and constant recollection of just how impatient your grandparents became with you when they couldn't understand your withdrawal; you can't bring yourself to believe that someone out there really would have patience for you. That someone could be gentle with your various…nuances…and that that someone would love you no matter whether you rarely spoke, or uttered ninety words a minute.

Before your mind can waste too much time thinking like this, however, Harold's voice startles you out of your thoughts…he's shutting the big machine down; and grabbing his coat from the back of another chair. Soon, John looks down at you, smiling, and says:

"Well, Leila? You ready?"

A smile lights up your face then, and you squeal in delight as John picks you up in his strong arms, resting you on his hip as he follows Harold out the door and down the stairs onto the busy street below the library. As the three of you make your way to the wonderful park…to your favorite place in the world, besides the library…you lean your face against the collar of John's coat, breathing in his scent and closing your eyes as he carries you towards your destination.

You may not be healed yet. It may take some time…but you know you have two men who love you more than anything to look after you. To protect you from your fears.

And that is more than you could have ever dreamed of.

….


	3. Chapter 3

_(The day it all went haywire…aka Harold goes missing)_

Today started off like any other day in the life of your little family…namely with John waking you up promptly at seven, as usual; laughing as you to try so hard not to nod off against his shoulder as the two of you head to the kitchen for breakfast. You're aware of something John drinks that makes him wake up…you've held out your hands for the cup containing it several times. But John says that the drink is for adults only. And not even your best pouty face changes his mind.

When the two of you arrive in the kitchen, Harold is there; busy making his own version of eggs benedict…and though you would give anything to see him smile, you aren't quite able to keep a straight face as, yet again, the concoction falls just short of what you suspect real eggs should taste like. John looks at you once, when Harold has his back turned; and you barely make out his wink as he attempts to feed you another spoonful of the concoction. You know what this means.

You're going to get donuts and cider on the way to Uncle Lionel's work. And that makes today the best day ever.

Well…maybe second only to the time you slept over at Joss' apartment when her mother was in town. Between the cuddling and the games and food while John and Harold went on something called a stake out…that day was about the happiest day that any baby could ever dream of having.

Time with Lionel has its perks too, though. For one thing, all the ladies flock to his desk without fail, to coo over you…something that makes the both of you extraordinarily happy. That, and you always wind up being allowed to sit in your car seat in the front of his cruiser while he drives around with all the big lights and noises…an event that never fails to leave you wound tighter than a tick by the time John comes back for you. It's days like those that usually end in Harold sitting in his computer chair, one eyebrow raised, and the corner of his mouth trying its hardest not to quirk up into a smile while you and John chase each other around the library; laughing and carrying on. All three of you are the closest to truly care-free as you've ever been in those moments…and you wouldn't trade them for the world.

But something about today is different. Lionel does his job for the first half of the day, just like normal…once in a while allowing you to pretend to help him crack the case; just for fun. But, just when the two of you are in the middle of an early dinner (peas and carrots for you, and a burger for him); his phone rings…a zillion people in suits start swarming all over the office…and Lionel is forced to hurriedly hand you over to a desk secretary named Susan while he rushes off in the general direction of all the commotion.

You don't waste too much time worrying over this…Susan has a lollipop with your name on it, and you spend a good deal of your time with her trying to answer the phone; smiling when you succeed in beating poor Susan to the punch, and babbling out a few incoherent words before she gently takes the phone from your grasp. Uncle Lionel is still nowhere to be seen…but you're having fun. And John should be coming for you soon…he is never late.

Except for today; you realize. You don't quite know how to tell time yet; but something in you notes that it's a bit darker than when it normally is by the time John arrives at the side door of the precinct to take you back home. You look expectantly out the window, because sometimes, when you're really paying attention; you can catch a glimpse of him, sweatshirt hood drawn up around his distinctive salt and pepper hair as he passes by and makes for the alley where Lionel exchanges you for a cup of coffee and some form of sugary treat. Tiny eyebrows furrowing in consternation when you realize that your routine has now been horridly disturbed; you watch the passersby intently…

But even after what seemed like ages of watching…no John.

Tears begin to form in your eyes then…giant, inconsolable tears as you realize that your worst fear has just come true.

John and Harold have left you. They left you in the care of others; just like your grandparents did. They don't want you anymore.

And that knowledge rips a scream from your throat as you begin to sob at the top of your lungs. A part of you hopes that, if you cry loudly enough; it will bring Lionel back…that he'll scoop you up and take you to John and Harold…that this will have been a bad dream.

But Lionel doesn't come back. John doesn't appear.

You are stuck there, with Susan; who clearly doesn't know the first thing about how to console you…and so you do the only thing you can think of.

You continue to cry.

Susan passes you off to another woman at a desk, and she does her best to soothe you; but to no avail. The commotion at the station…the lack of clarity…of certainty…that formerly came with your carefully laid out routine…all of it is too much. You can barely breathe, you're sobbing so much; but you can't bring yourself to stop. Your whole world has been shattered once again, and you cling to the new woman holding you as she bounces you up and down; terrified out of your mind when, in the middle of your tears, you catch a hint of a conversation about trying to hunt down a "man in a suit."

You love three people who meet that description. And that causes your heart to race even faster than it already is.

John wears a suit. Harold wears a suit. Uncle Lionel wears a suit. And as this knowledge sinks in, your cries turn to all out screams. You don't understand enough of what the men in your life are involved in to know what this means for them…but you can surmise by the tone of the tall man's voice that it's not looking good. You've heard that same tone in John's voice when something goes wrong while he's at work. And that recognition sends you into a panic.

The woman holding you picks you up then, carrying you out of the busy precinct and into a darkened office; where she sits once again, rocking you back and forth and trying her best to soothe you into silence. She knows you'll wear yourself out if you keep doing this…but you don't know that. You aren't aware that your panic will eventually exhaust you; and so you keep crying, tears splashing down your cheeks until your head lolls against the woman's shoulder, your breath coming in short gasps as you finally slip into a troubled sleep…

You may be only a little over a year old…but you are aware enough to know that your family may have just been torn apart.

And that realization is too much for you to bear.

…

An unknown amount of time passes, while you're asleep. You can't really tell how long you were out…all you know is that suddenly, Lionel is picking you up and carrying you towards the usual side door of the precinct…you're slipping out together into the alley. And the detective is soon handing you over into John's strong arms; making everything right in the world once again.

Or at least…almost right.

There's something in the way John holds you that alerts you to his tension…to an unusual amount of fatigue and concern. His arms tighten around you as though afraid someone will snatch you from his grasp; and you instinctively curl into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and cuddling your cheek against him as you listen to him speak.

He's apologizing to Lionel for something that happened…for breaking his trust. Then he's talking about getting in touch with him in the morning to hash out "plans." You never really comprehend what it is he means…your entire being is caught up in the fact that you haven't been abandoned…that John came back for you and he's taking you home.

You both say goodbye to Lionel then, and John carries you back to the car in silence; occasionally squeezing you tightly to him, as though he's trying to reassure himself that you're there…that you're real. You place a light kiss against his cheek to console him…and it's then that you realize…

John…the rock…the strong one…is crying. Not as much as you had been back at the precinct, by a long shot. But the tears are there…you taste the salt of them on your lips as you pull away from him. And you cock your head to the side as you look at him intently before uttering a single word.

"Why?"

John looks at you for a moment, almost seeming baffled at your question; before he readjusts your weight on his hip before replying:

"Harold had to go away for a little while, Leila."

"Why?" You repeat the question; your eyes drilling into John's as you attempt to figure out why Harold would leave so suddenly. John is clearly surprised, once again, by your perception that something was odd here; and he blinks once before continuing.

"Someone's taken him. Just like someone took you" He said softly, leaning down to unlock the car and settle you into your car seat; maneuvering himself back out of the car to scan the street one more time before getting in himself and starting the engine "But we'll get him back, sweetheart. He won't want to be away from us for long."

Something in the determined glint in John's eyes reassures you, even though a part of you knows that whatever has happened is in no way a good thing. You're able to tell, even at this age, that Harold would have never left the two of you behind voluntarily…

But you also know John. You know that he will move heaven and earth to keep his family safe. So you allow yourself to nod off in the car seat as John drives you back home to your apartment.

You are confident that he will make everything alright again.

The gentle movements of the car as John drives lulls you into a more restful sleep than you had back at the precinct; and you are already out by the time John whispers into the silence:

"I'm not going to let anyone take my family from me."

…..

**Hokay! Hey there! Long time no see!**

**This particular plot angle just jumped me out of the blue this evening…I was wrapping up homework and moving on to yet another thing to study (because that's just the way life is going right now, I suppose) and whammo! I'm smacked in the face with an idea for what would happen when Harold was taken by Root, from Leila's POV.**

**Let me just warn you that I literally churned this out in around two hours…so if it's obvious that I didn't spend that much time on it, I do apologize. Please do let me know what you think! If it's completely horrendous, I can take it down and try again when I've had more coffee (or more sleep…whichever option is more feasible at the time, lol).**

**At any rate, I do hope this wasn't too painful for ya. *wink wink* As always, many thanks for taking the time to read!**

**Until the next time…**

**~MJR~**


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